Irresistible
by Hunter Kitty
Summary: After attracting every infected nearby to him, Ellis realizes that his bubbly personality holds more power than he'd thought. A combination of appearance and acting allows him to lead his teammates through his every whim. T for violence and language


-Rated T for Violence and Language-

**A/N**: Alternate Summary: This is a fic about Ellis being so cute that he has mind control and also there is an ax involved. Remember, kids, it's not yaoi; it's mind-control. (No, I don't believe I was on any drugs at the time, but I understand that I'm crazy-stupid.) Also, this fic is **not romance or humor**, just in case anyone forgot to check the genre. I had a huge argument with myself trying to make this sound like the creepy, weird little story it turned out to be.

I'm actually not sure I wanted to post this here, but it's worth a shot. Hopefully there's something cool under all my madness. If not, I don't blame you for not liking it. (Also, I may be dancing a bit close to the line between 'M' and 'T' [There is language up to the 's' word and death involved], but I'm not positive, so please inform me if you believe the rating should be higher.)

* * *

"Hold up, guys," Ellis announced the moment the steel door slammed shut, "I gotta heal."

"Again?"

"Nick!" Coach scolded, giving the sarcastic con-man a good smack upside the head. "You damn well know he needs it." He waved an arm towards Ellis, who was gripping a first-aid kit in both hands, unsure of whether or not he should use it. However, a head injury, a deep gash down his left arm, and an oddly-bent ankle made a definitive statement.

"Well if he wouldn't get the crap beat out of him so often maybe he wouldn't need a medkit every ten minutes!" Nick exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. "A _hospital_ wouldn't be able to handle him!"

"Well, it sure ain't _his_ fault all them zombies are out to get 'im!"

At that, Ellis giggled, possibly from a rush of blood that bubbled from the crack in his forehead. "I'm _irresistible!_"

Nick rolled his eyes. "Damn straight. Now we know who'll get bait duty."

"_Nick_!" Even Rochelle sided with Ellis.

The mechanic blinked slowly, feeling his brain suck in some oxygen-enriched blood from the stream dribbling down his face. _'Wait,'_ he mused, thoughts swirling through his head like a river of thick syrup. _'It ain't just the zombies. Coach an' Ro got it too.'_

The only matter, then, was finding out what 'it' was.

Ellis closed his eyes in a pointless attempt to keep his blood inside his head. After a few moments, during which he faintly heard Nick and Rochelle arguing like a married couple, he felt a hand pat his head gently.

"S'alright, son." Coach's voice drifted to the front of Ellis' consciousness. "Nick's just bein' an idiot. Ain't nothin' new."

Even while Nick yelled "_Am not!"_ from the hazy depths somewhere beyond Ellis' faded range, a sudden comprehension dawned upon him. Maybe his previous, blood-hazed statement had been true. Maybe, mused a voice in his mind, he really _was_ irresistible.

He passed out with an idea in his mind and Nick's swearing in his ears.

* * *

Keeping his recent epiphany at the front of his mind, Ellis marched back to his teammates, determined to test his theory.

The others had already left the saferoom and stepped forward to clear out the front gates of Whisperin' Oaks. Determined to test his theory, he limped forward and stood next to Rochelle, pasting a pained look onto his face.

She immediately took the bait: "You all right, Ellis?"

"Y-yeah," he said, thanking every spiritual force he knew for his experience in the elementary school plays. "Just still hurts a bit." Up ahead, Nick turned around and watched, the look on his face clearly hinting towards doubt.

Rochelle 'tsked' a couple times, shaking her head. "Those guys really got you good, huh? I've got some pills, would those help?"

Ellis spared a surreptitious glance towards Nick, who had narrowed his eyes. "Sure," Ellis said, nodding. He kept his triumphant glee hidden. "That'd be great."

"Alright." Rochelle dug in her pockets and retrieved the bottle of painkillers. She'd hardly held them out for a mere moment when they were snatched out of her fingers. All she got was a brief "Thanks, Ro!" before Ellis dashed ahead to join Coach and Nick.

"Ummm," she stammered. She wondered a moment when he planned on taking them, but the idea simply breezed by, never taking root.

"Hey, guys!" Ellis chirped, nudging himself through into a space between Nick and Coach. "How y'all doin'?"

Coach immediately seemed to relax, his tensed muscles dropping. He let the barrel of his AK-47 lower and point towards the ground. "We're doin' alright," he said.

On the other hand, Nick clutched his gun tighter, automatically drawing his lower lip to his teeth. He made a point of staring straight ahead and feeding a bullet to any zombie that wandered too close.

However, Ellis wasn't prepared to let it drop so easily. "What about you, Nick?"

Nick grunted. "Fine."

"Likin' Georgia so far, buddy?"

The con man's stone-cold expression faltered. "N-no," he stuttered. After that, he picked up his pace and walked away before his 'buddy' could continue his questionnaire.

Unfortunately, that didn't diminish Ellis' excitement. "Oh my God!" he exclaimed, pointing ahead. "It's the Lil' Peanut Shooting Gallery! Can we play? Please? Just enough so I can win the prize!"

"Sure!" Coach said, nodding. "Man, I used to knock 'em dead when I was your age, boy!"

"I guess it couldn't hurt," Rochelle agreed.

Nick froze at the picnic benches, turning back towards the group. His mouth was open and ready for a sarcastic, negative reply when he caught sight of Ellis. Almost automatically, he closed his mouth and gnawed on his lip, a childhood habit that only just now began to resurface.

The boy just stared right back, eyes wide and child-like. "What about you, Nick?"

Blood trickled from Nick's abused lip. "I...I guess," he admitted, his gaze wary. "Not too long."

Ellis smirked. "No worries, Nick!"

* * *

"Hey, first-aid!" Coach exclaimed, beaming when the bright-red cabinet came into view. "C'mon, fellas, I could stand a couple painkillers."

'_Of course you could,'_ Nick thought, not daring to voice his words. _'You got the crap beat outta you, what with all the time we spent shooting wooden targets, testing the cotton-candy machines, riding the damn peanut-rockets, and all that other crap. And guess who suggested each and every damn idea?'_

He glanced over towards Ellis. Something was going on with that guy. Coach and Rochelle had been following him like lost puppies all day. Nick wouldn't risk arguing against that maniac; at least, not with Coach and Rochelle around to protect the brat.

"Hang on a sec," he said, drawing his teammates' attention. "I wanna talk to Ellis for a sec. Coach, Rochelle, you guys just go on and rest."

Coach and Rochelle turned to Ellis first. _('Another sign. Something's wrong.'_) The mechanic nodded his agreement, so the two went on ahead to the room and promising health-box. That would buy a little extra time.

Nick waited only until the other two were out of earshot before snatching Ellis by the collar and dragging him away. "Come on, you little..." he muttered, feeling his throat catch before the insult left his mouth. "Just...get over here."

* * *

Nick sighed, shoving Ellis over to the truck and sitting him down on the edge. "What the hell are you doing? You've got Coach and Rochelle wrapped around your goddamn finger!"

Ellis simply smiled, boldly embracing Nick's opinion that he was 'A five-year-old with guns.' "Whaddya mean, Nick?" he asked, voice so far into innocence it became the opposite. "I don't see any problem."

"Y-yeah, but..." His mouth opened and closed, the words drowned in a sweet, mind-numbing feeling. _'What's the big deal?'_ echoed a voice deep in his mind. _'Let's just go along with what he says! Nothing wrong!'_ He had to physically shake the ideas out of his head. "That! That's it! Cut it out!"

Ellis sighed, tilting his head _('Oh dear God he's like a goddamn bunny') _to the side. "Nick, maybe you should calm down."

The wave of calm hit Nick so hard he stumbled back. "No!"

"Nick."

"N-Never!"

"Nick."

"_Shut up!_" Nick screamed, clamping his hands over his ears. He couldn't listen to that voice anymore; he just couldn't. It was too–

'_Hey, Nick.'_

His eyes widened. That voice...But...

Ellis smiled, and gently rocked back and forth. His lips, the lips that Nick would never admit he'd been staring at, hadn't moved an inch from that confident smile that practically oozed false innocence.

Nick swallowed the choking lump in his throat. _'Oh, God...'_

* * *

"Hey," Coach began, turning away from the medicine cabinet and fixing his gaze on Rochelle. "How long d'ya think they'll be gone?"

Rochelle shrugged. "They should be back any minute."

Before she could even finish her sentence, a blood-curdling shriek erupted. The duo swivelled to face the sound just in time to see Nick sprinting towards them, running as though the devil himself were right on his heels.

"_Get him out!_" he shrieked. _"Get him out of my head!"_ The con man ran for the ladder and scaled it, going so far as to skip rungs just to get out of there faster.

Coach and Rochelle didn't even have time to turn back around before Ellis dashed forward in pursuit. He paused at the base of the ladder to shout, "Just stay here, guys!", then followed Nick up.

The two froze, staring at the hatch through which their teammates had vanished. As the pounding footsteps faded away, Coach looked at Rochelle quizzically.

"Hey," he said, "where'd Nick an' Ellis go?"

Rochelle shrugged. "I'm...not sure."

"Should we go find 'em?"

She pondered the idea, then shook her head. "I think we should just stay here."

* * *

Nick gasped for breath as he approached the fun slide, drained by his full-on sprint and his panicked need to get away from that saccharine aura that surrounded Ellis. He wasn't going to let that little manic control him–

Oh dear God, the boy had found an ax.

"Hey, Nick!" Ellis yelled, hefting the ax in his muscular ('_NO,'_ Nick told himself. _'They're _not_ buff. Dammit, he's got range') _arms. "Hol' up! We can work this out, Nikki!"

The girlish nickname spurred Nick forward once more. He slapped his feet on the ground, willing his knees to man up and stop feeling like jelly. Just to stagger onto the slide and skate down was a feat all its own.

At the bottom, he stumbled forward, found purchase, and continued forward once again. His lungs felt like they were burning, but he pressed on because he could hear Ellis slipping down the slide and he wasn't going to turn back and see how close that damn kid was, he wasn't going to listen for that voice over the rush of blood in his ears, he wouldn't, he refused, never in a million years...

"Dammit, I hate stairs," he breathed, lifting each foot, alternating left and right to climb up the stairs.

'_Damn, damn, damn, I can hear his footsteps behind me. MOVE, FEET.'_

He didn't even stop at the office, simply ran straight by and jumped off the platform. Hitting the ground felt like taking a baseball bat (_or an ax, but don't think about that)_ to the shins, but he told himself that his shins could take a fall; on the other hand, his throat probably couldn't withstand that ax.

"_Nick!_"

"Shit," Nick hissed. The carousel was out: the gates were closed and opening it would set off an alarm that was sure to bring more trouble than it was worth. Instead, he took a sharp right. The platform blocked his view, but surely there had to be something–

"Oh, goddamnit." Rounding the corner only sealed his fate: a dead end. A goddamn _dead end_.

"Nick?"

The con man pivoted towards his assailant, backing away even though all that lay behind him was cold, unforgiving cement. "Go away." he said, fighting to keep his voice in the same octave.

"Aw, c'mon, Nick!" Ellis shifted the ax to his left hand and held out his right, inviting Nick forward. "I ain't gonna bite!"

Nick shook his head, a motion that took far more effort than it should have. He stumbled back, nearly tripping over a discarded katana sword. Completely relying on instinct, he snatched the weapon from the ground and held it in front of him. Ellis stopped, but that smile and friendly outstretched hand were still there.

"Oh, Nick," Ellis said, shaking his head. "You can set the sword down."

The words loosened his grip, but Nick still clutched the sword; it was his lifeline. "Get away, Ellis!" This time, a crack snuck into his voice.

Ellis dared another step, and Nick moved away. "Nick, it doesn't have to be like this."

"Hell no, it doesn't!" Nick screamed, but he felt the concrete behind him, like a series of minuscule hands clawing at his back and holding him against the wall. "You can get the hell away from me and it'll be fine!"

"Nick." Ellis' voice was so smooth. And the way his name just rolled off the boy's tongue...

"_Stay away!_" Nick yelled, waking up in time to notice that the boy was three steps closer. Ellis obeyed, but didn't back down.

"Come on, Nick," he whispered, the words quiet and soothing as though meant for a child's lullaby. "You're used to mind games, right? You do this all the time! This is just a little game." He beckoned the terrified man closer. "Come on. I ain't gonna hurt ya."

From somewhere in his subconscious, Nick's determination clawed to the front of his mind. "I..." He hesitated, gulping down a soldier of submission. "I do this all the time?" His eyes narrowed.

Ellis sensed the danger instantaneously; he took a step back. No more sweet words fell off his lips.

"_I do this all the time?_" Nick asked, far past the point of no return. He stepped forward, not only turning the tables but flipping them over and grabbing the hammer and nails. "I do NOT take over peoples' minds! I persuade, I soothe, I sell, but _I do not goddamn mind-control!_"

"N-Nick," Ellis squeaked, dropping the ax and holding both hands up for peace. "Y-you don't have to–"

"_Oh, I have to!_" he roared, advancing quickly. He held the katana in a death grip, keeping it in front of him and pointed to Ellis' throat. "_You...are...a MENACE!"_

He accented the last word with his attack: He stabbed forward with the sword, driving it into the throat that had, moments earlier, tried to seduce him with sugar-sweet words. Ellis stared, eyes pleading, '_Why, Nick?'_ Mercifully, they fluttered shut after only a second or two, freeing Nick from the last of Ellis' control. The body slumped, slipping back and collapsing onto the ground.

Even then, Nick couldn't stop._ "You're a MONSTER!_" he screeched, driving the blade down into the already-punctured throat. "_You're a DEMON! A TERROR! A PLAGUE ON MANKIND!"_

He could've continued forever, decorating Ellis' neck with wounds, had a hand not set on his shoulder and pulled him back. Another pair of hands snatched the sword from his grip, prying his fingers away to reach it.

"Nick! _Nick!_" It took a few moments for Coach's voice to reach Nick's ears. "What the _hell_ are you doin', boy?"

"I..." He stopped, staring down at the carnage he'd caused. Suddenly, he felt very, very sick. The cotton candy threatened a second visit.

"Nick, you–" Coach didn't finish his sentence, distracted by Nick's shock. "You...You don't look so good."

"I...I think I'm gonna throw up," Nick croaked.

"Come here." Rochelle swooped in like a mother hen, leading Nick away and towards the Porta-Potties on the other side of the merry-go-round. "Calm down. You'll explain later."

"I-I killed 'im!"

"Shhhhh. Later."

Coach sighed and watched after them. He followed them with his eyes all the way over th the toilets before what felt like two soft, cloud-like hands settle on the sides of his head and turn him towards the chain-link fence.

A small, bright-orange box sat there, nestled in the corner. The defibrillator seemed to sparkle, drawing him in.

Coach took a step towards it.

* * *

**A/N**: Ellis always wanted to be an ax murderer.


End file.
